Spies Like Us
by maricsblade
Summary: Alistair and Solona spy on Sten and Morrigan. Kink!meme fill.


_Response to a k!meme prompt. Someday I'll get around to writing my own (longer) stories. So many ideas, so little time. :-p_

_Bioware owns all of these characters._

~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~

The mere idea that they're going to watch Sten and Morrigan do this is so ludicrous that Solona has to bite her hand to keep from laughing out loud.

"Shhh…" Alistair gently presses a finger to her lips.

They're crouched in the long grass outside of Morrigan's lean-to, watching two other figures in the long grass on the other side of her campfire.

"Why didn't they go to Sten's tent?" Solona hisses.

"I really don't know. Just be glad they didn't, or we'd be playing cards tonight."

It seems that all of Sten's warnings were complete falsehoods. There is no armor, there are no helmets, and it doesn't look like there is going to be any death. He and Morrigan are spooning, buck naked, their hands working at each other's private parts, and it actually seems as if they're…_enjoying_ themselves.

Alistair smirks. Morrigan is _never_ going to hear the end of this. He'll never mention it directly, just hint around, let her know that he knows exactly what happened. Never in Sten's company, of course. That guy is _big_. And _creepy_.

Just then Morrigan moans, and the look on her face is enough to firm up Alistair's nascent erection, which begins throbbing insistently. Solona sees him ease forward onto his knees and adjust his breeches, and he lets his hand linger perhaps a moment too long.

"Poor Alistair," she whispers, giggling. "Is this turning out to be a bit more than you bargained for?"

Continuing to watch them, he casts a brief sidelong glance at her. "You are a bad, bad woman, Solona Amell. Before I met you, I never would have done something like _this_."

She assumes that he means coming out to spy on two of their companions having "relations." But then he starts to stroke himself, quite conspicuously, through his breeches. She inhales so quickly she almost chokes on her own spit, and her eyes grow wide as saucers.

He looks over again to make sure she's watching, then turns his eyes back to Sten and Morrigan. Sten has his face in Morrigan's quim now, and she's lying back and tweaking a nipple with one hand while the other hand plays with Sten's braids. Sure, Alistair hates her guts, but Morrigan isn't exactly ugly, and he's never seen two people make love before, and this is so…just…yes…this is…_good_…_enough_.

Alistair undoes his breeches and frees his manly bits, and Solona can't take her eyes off his hand as he strokes, squeezes, twists, pulls, and slaps at his cock, occasionally reaching back to fondle his balls. She can't believe what he's doing, her one-time Chantry virgin, but he's making her so hot that her pulse is thumping in her belly and she's pretty sure her undergarments are already soaked. The next time Alistair glances over, she's lifted her skirt with one hand and her other hand is rising and falling just inside her small clothes, and her eyes are glued to his hand on his shaft.

She looks up just then, and he gives her a wicked grin, proud that she's found his little game so arousing. "Come here," he whispers, "as quietly as you can."

She maneuvers herself next to him, but he moves behind her, taking one of her hands and placing it around his pulsing girth. Then he hangs his head over her shoulder and puts one hand over her breast and the other hand under her skirt. "This will be _much_ better," he whispers next to her ear, and she shivers so violently that her shoulder knocks his jaw and he almost bites his tongue.

He chuckles, nudging her head so she's gazing straight at the two lovers. They resume watching as Morrigan enthusiastically goes down on Sten for a few minutes. He doesn't come, but Solona and Alistair are beyond wondering why, or laughing at them, or thinking about anything at all except their hands on each other's bodies, the rubbing and stroking and circling and squelching, and when Morrigan finally lowers herself onto Sten's cock, Alistair pulls Solona down into the grass and kisses her hard on the mouth. She pulls his breeches and braies down around his thighs, and he pulls her skirts up and her small clothes down, and just like that he's inside her and they're fucking like animals but trying not to let the whole rest of the camp know about it. Solona's legs are open wide and pulled high, and just when Alistair thinks he can't get any harder she coats her middle finger in saliva and reaches down to rub her clit, and she starts moaning and bucking her hips, and he closes his eyes and Maker, oh, _Maker_, just a little longer and he's almost…

"My, my, what have we here?"

…_there!_ Gods, it's so good, so good. So, so g—

wait.

Flushed, panting, and dripping with sweat, Alistair raises his head. Morrigan stands before him, wrapped in a blanket, and Sten is just behind her, similarly attired.

"How _kind_ of you to pay us a visit!" Morrigan says, her voice even more sarcastic than usual. "Am I to assume that you ended up in this particular spot by accident? Or that, left to your own devices, the two of you are…_unable_…to enjoy a satisfactory physical relationship?"

Solona's eyes are shut tight and she can't imagine opening them. Ever.

"Of _course_ it was an accident!" Alistair retorts, lying through his teeth. "There are only so many safe spots within the radius of camp. You know how I feel about you—why in Andraste's name would I want to _spy on_ _you_?"

Morrigan pauses for a moment. "You have a _tent_," she points out.

Alistair curses the fact that neither logic nor lying was ever one of his strong suits. But then…"Wait. So do _you_. At least, Sten does." _Touché._

"Sten, let us stay in your tent tonight," she says coolly, and with that, they are gone.

Alistair and Solona are quiet until Sten and Morrigan are out of earshot. Solona doesn't know who giggles first, but they laugh until she's gasping for breath and her sides are aching. She pokes Alistair in the ribs and opens her mouth to say something, but he cuts her off.

"Wait, wait," he says, holding up a hand. "Let me guess. 'Next time, maybe we should stick to cards.'"


End file.
